Kuvira Alone
by Anonymous1322
Summary: After the events of the finale, Kuvira is left alone to reflect on her past, and how it has shaped who she is today.
1. The Glass Box

A glass box. That is all I am confined to now. Something that seems fragile, yet it is unyielding, unfeeling.

I wish I was a glass box.

As I sit staring at my faded reflection, I am forced to see myself as I truly am. No longer am I the great uniter; no, I am a young woman, lost beyond all hope. I alienated those I love, and in return was rightfully abandoned. As I continue pondering, the reflection shifts into an image I am all too familiar with. An eight year old is sitting, curled up into a ball, tears streaming down her face. My stomach drops as my memory projects onto the glass in front of me.

_It is a dreary, brooding day, the kind of day that holds nothing but sorrow. The darkness outside of the window implies that the sun has only just begun to rise. I watch as a younger version of myself awakens, to an empty house. Her small voice calls out for her loved ones, piercing the silence. She searches the rooms, but to no avail. The house is a skeleton, the flesh hastily torn away in the dead of the night. The girl runs to the door, standing in the threshold and searching the horizon for any sign that her parents are coming back, any sign that they care about her. As she realizes the unforgiving truth, she slides down the door frame, tears sliding down her face. Soon the soft sounds of rain falling join her quiet sobs, and thunder rumbles in the distance. The girl glances up and meets my eyes._

As I face the reflection, I feel the lonely, stinging tears threatening to spill over. The reflection slowly shifts back to reality, but the only thing that changes is the age of the girl. I look away, ashamed at what I have become, ashamed at what I always have been.

**A/N So, the finale... was fantastic. Kudos to Bryke for a great ending. I am intrigued by Kuvira's past and motivations, so here is my outlet, to keep track of the story in my mind. Out of all my villains, she is my favorite, because she showed that she is a human, who has intentions, who recognizes her faults, and who still wants to be protected. This will likely be multi-chapter. ****Shoutout to mml005's _Glass Walls_, a great one-shot that forever made me imagine Kuvira in a glass cell.**

**Anonymous**


	2. The One Person

Time is uneven in this cage. Days and nights meld together as I contemplate the choices I've made. The harsh, artificial light further distorts my sense of reality. Sleep evades me, but when it is in my grasp, it is peppered with memories of my childhood.

_The eight year old girl sits on a metal bench outside the office of a woman named Su. She is filthy and ragged. As she waits, she gently swings her feet back and forth, her eyes glued to the floor. She hears footsteps, and her head snaps up to find the source._

_"Who are you?" a boy, looking about her age, asks as he approaches her._

_"Kuvira," the girl replies cautiously. While_ she was living with her parents, she never really talked to other children. _She studies the boy: Zaofu native, likely wealthy, not entirely bad looking._

_"Well, I've never heard of you. You must be new here. I'm Bataar...Jr. that is. My dad is Bataar Sr. He designed and built all of the things here in Zaofu, with my mom of course," he rambled, while staring intently at the her._

_"Who is your-" young Kuvira started, but was interrupted._

_"Bataar, I thought you were working with your father today," a woman muses as she walks toward the pair of children._

_"I am, but he asked me to come get you so you can approve something." As an after thought, Bataar Jr. adds," this is Kuvira."_

_"Yes darling, I know who she is. Run on back to your father and tell him I'll be there as soon as I finish some business," she chides, glancing in the girl's direction. _

_"Yes mother," the boy says, as he jumps off of the bench. "See you later, Kuvira," he exclaims, hurrying_ back through the metallic hallway__

_"Why don't we talk in my office?" the woman kindly asks as she guides the girl through the door. _

"Bataar," I whisper, feeling the unwanted tears resurface. I am tired of crying. If anything, I should be cold and unfeeling; I had the choice to let myself be happy, but I decided that the empire was more important. After all, I fired the cannon and obliterated our relationship, murdered the one person who still cared about me, as a person, not a ruler. It is no wonder I am hated by Su: I killed her oldest son.

I may have been abandoned again, but this time, it is all my own doing.

**A/N I also believe Kuvira wouldn't know about Bataar's survival, because he wasn't seen by her again. This was a really fast update, but I'm not sure if they all will happen this quickly. I really want to write about Su and Kuvira, so that *may* be next chapter. I just have to get the details right. Thanks to incandescent-princess for catching that typo last chapter. Any commentary is good commentary.**

**Anonymous**


	3. Into Darkness

Try as I might, I have lost track of how long I have been here. The realization dawns on me as breakfast, or possibly dinner, is served through the small slot on the door. I glance at the meal. While appearing edible, I am not inclined to eat it; there are too many grudges in this city to trust the food. Next to the meal, there are two small pills and a glass of water. As I did yesterday, or possibly this morning, I drink the water and slide the pills into the slit I made in my mattress. They are painkillers, for the broken ribs and various other injuries, but they do their job too well. Once the pain is gone, all that is left are the hallucinations, which are becoming more and more frequent; besides, painkillers are much more lethal in high doses.

I lean against a wall and look at the slit, considering the consequences of such actions.

"It's not worth it, you know." Before my eyes, the young Kuvira has appeared, passively uttering those words.

"Why not?" I question defensively, scanning the apparition. She is disconnected from the wall now, appearing as an almost human specter.

"You don't know what's on the other side," she says with a smirk on her face.

"Does it matter if I know?" I ask dismissively.

"I would think so. You could spend an eternity in a hallucination, or an eternity alone in an abyss. You and I both know our actions don't warrant a 'happy ending'," she rationalizes, cold and calculating. With these words, her form shifts into a version of myself I am all too familiar with, from the armor, to the uniform, to the hairstyle, to the apathetic look in her eyes. "Not to mention, wouldn't it be a pathetic way for the Great Uniter to die?" questions none other that the Great Uniter herself, with an antagonizing smirk. I feel my chest constrict; my heart pounds as I look into her eyes. She is unrecognizable, her features a facade of power and disdain. "But then again, are you even the Great Uniter anymore?" she mockingly asks, as she moves so that I can see my reflection: dirty unkempt hair, haggard face, ill-fitting clothes, a worried, helpless expression.

With that image, I feel the adrenaline take control of my limbs, amplified by the sleep deprivation. Fear, aggression, and anger take over my facial features as I shriek. I tackle the thin air, ignoring the pain that shoots through my body. When the Great Uniter slides back into the glass, I pound my fists against it, vaguely registering the commotion below me as the guards move towards my suspended cage. It is too late to stop; I am too far gone. I feel the bones in my hands cry out, but the reflection just stands there, sneering at my weakness. A sharp pain in my right arm distracts me long enough to realize the guards are around me, trying to contain my flailing arms and legs. I feel a tingling sensation in my fingers, in the blood coursing through me.

"_Imbeciles!" _I think as I latch onto the sensation and begin bending the metal they forgot to remove in the commotion. I hear them cry out, but I am only focused on the Great Uniter. She laughs as I send blade after blade of metal at her and winks as the glass finally shatters. Even though the image is gone, her laugh echoes through my skull as the world begins to slow down. My knees hit the floor, and I hold my head as I spiral into the darkness.

**A/N- No Su this chapter; I've had to do a lot of thinking into how her character would act, especially given how she acted in the finale. Instead we get the Azula 2.0 mental breakdown of a lifetime. Most people grieve through a combination of anger and sadness, and Kuvira is no exception. This isn't the end of the flashbacks, but a little real time action was needed. Next chapter: Korra !maybe!. Depends on how that flows...**

**Anonymous**


	4. The Spirit of Iroh

I awaken in what can only be the spirit world. While it seems like a simple meadow, I know there is no way I would ever be this free in the real world. Nonetheless, I am still in my prison uniform, which consists of shapeless, matching grey-colored garments; it is a reminder of what reality holds once I return. I stand up and brush myself off the best I can. For the first time in days, I am at peace. There are no outdated Kuviras wondering around, and there are no voices in my head. I take in the beauty of the spirit world: this is only the second time I have been here, and the first time was under...extenuating circumstances. I tentatively take a few steps forward. Even though I am mentally free, I still feel the dull ache of my old injuries and the sting of the new cuts on my hands and arms. The pain reminds me of what I have just done. At the time, I was sure my breakdown would be to my disadvantage, but as I look at my actions from an outside standpoint, I slowly realize they may just ruin me. No one of stable mind would trust me again, not withstanding that I am now certifiably insane. For lack of a better response, I sigh and sink back into a cross-legged sitting position.

"Can the mentally unstable heal? Do I have a chance at a normal, or at least a sane, life?" I unknowingly ask aloud, placing my head in my hands.

"I suppose like cold tea, sanity can be rewarmed with the right tools," muses an old man who appeared out of nowhere, "but tea does lose some of its better qualities when forced to undergo drastic changes." I involuntarily flinch backwards, looking with wide eyes at the jovial old man. He looks me in the eyes, and adds, "All tea cools at some point; your destiny depends on whether or not you are willing to put in the work to warm it back up."

"Who are you?" I question.

"You can call me Iroh," he replies, with a knowing smile on his face. He offers me a hand, and adds, "Would you like to go have a pot of tea?" With no better options, and no viable escape route, I simply nod and grasp his hand, trying to pull myself up in the least painful way possible.

Once I reach Iroh's house, I am struck by how familiar the name is. Iroh...Iroh, General Iroh of the United Forces? I look skeptically at the old man, observing that he does not seem to be in shape to run an army. The name rings in my head; I know I have heard of another Iroh. Giving in to my loss for knowledge, I ask Iroh if he is related to the Iroh I am familiar with.

"Iroh is my great-great-nephew on paper, but in reality I would have functioned as a great-grandfather to him," he explains, with a forlorn look in his eyes. The Dragon of the West: he is the famous uncle of retired Firelord Zuko. We sit in silence as he prepares the tea. Once ready, he sets the the two steaming cups on the table and sets up a Pai Sho board, to my surprise. "You seem like the kind of person who would play a mean game of Pai Sho," he responds. I glance at the board. Back in Zaofu, during my childhood, Su would occasionally play Pai Sho with me. I always liked the quiet strategizing and careful planning the game offered, not to mention the declarations that I was naturally talented at the game once I won. We play the game in comfortable silence, until I am within reach of victory. As Iroh moves his piece, he breaks the silence, "You know, your playing style is very similar to a certain blind earthbender's. You have a slight variation, though, that likely defeats many opponents. But you forgot to account for one piece of mine in your strategy: the white lotus." With those words, he moves his white lotus piece, alerting me to a pattern I had not noticed before. He won. I stare at him in disbelief. "I have played many games of Pai Sho in my day and only lost a few," he reasons, as I look again at the Pai Sho board. He exploited a very small weakness in my strategy, a weakness that I knew was there, but did not expect anyone to find. I realize that he must be a master of Pai Sho, a man of legend. Looking at his board again, I ask him to teach me his strategy for Pai Sho. "It is not just a strategy for Pai Sho, " he answers gravely, with a very serious countenance, "it is a strategy for life."

After glancing around the spirit world, I simply reply, "I think I have time."

**A/N: This is always what I wanted to happen in ATLA with Azula. The character of Uncle Iroh always had serene wisdom that I think could help someone who is in a tough place or who may be broken inside. More will be explained next chapter (like how she's here, how Iroh knew to show up, etc.), as we will still be in the spirit world. The chapters are getting successively longer (sans the AN's); I count it as a small victory. **

**Happy Holidays, Anonymous**


	5. (Pai Sho)w Me How to Fix This

"The key to a great Pai Sho strategy is accepting your faults, but not letting them define you or your actions. Your strategy is good, but you made a lot of moves to defend what you perceived as weakness. Those moves drew my attention to the fault in your positioning and allowed me to exploit it and defeat you," Iroh begins, while he resets the board, "That is human nature. Nonetheless, the best Pai Sho players have made peace with their past, in order to open their minds to the future. They do not fixate on their faults; they simply accept them and continue playing," I pause from resetting the board, letting his words sink in.

"But who are we without our pasts?" I challenge, wondering how one could just ignore an entire lifetime.

"That is what we have to journey to discover, " he replies pensively. "My nephew, though he is a great man now, was lost for quite a while. He allowed events from his childhood to drive his actions; he convinced himself that he had to regain his honor, which he was "lost" when he was exiled from the Fire Nation. He achieved his goal, but it never felt right. He was still an incomplete person. He went through a lot of pain and suffering, but he finally allowed himself to move on from his past. After that, he was a decidedly better person. He made a positive impact on the world. He won Pai Sho," Iroh emphasized, his eyes boring into my soul. I look away, unable to hold his weighted gaze.

"My journey started when I was eight. I was abandoned. I wandered around until someone took notice of me, and took me to Suyin Beifong. Su was a kind and caring person, but there was always something holding her back from being a mother to me. She loved my metalbending abilities, she loved my achievements in the city, but I do not think she ever loved me. She allowed everyone to be creative, and encouraged everyone to find their own path, but it always seemed that my path was straightforward: I was the metalbender, the protegeé, the Captain. I accepted that. To me, it was a prestigious life to live. Everything was fine until the Earth Kingdom fell into chaos. Su refused to help, I felt I had to. In my attempts to fix everything, I destroyed it instead, " I say, trying to keep my face devoid of feelings, "the story is black and white; I was good, but I turned bad."

I await Iroh's judgement that I am just another power-crazed dictator, who committed unspeakable actions, and who got what she deserved. Instead, he sits quietly for a moment, letting the story sink in.

"You are not telling me the whole story," he sighs, with a somber gaze, "if you think this will be simple, than I may have overestimated your intelligence; the difference between right and wrong is seldom straightforward."

"What do you mean?! I was wrong; I did bad things, hurt good people. There is **nothing** more to tell," I assert, feeling the anger swell within me. I begin to stand up, but hide my anger behind the familiar mask of indifference, "the world has changed since you last were there. A cup of tea and storytime won't solve problems." Iroh takes no notice of my outburst. He too stands, but he picks up the tea pot and casually asks if I would like jasmine tea. "Did you not hear what I said?" I ask, feeling like the old me.

"I heard it, yes, but I am choosing not to believe it. No matter what century it is, people are still people," he contends, while watching the tea brew, "everyone wants to categorize themselves and others, but we are complex beings." He glances up at me, eyebrows raising in surprise. I look around and, in the corner of my eye, I see it. "What an interesting transformation," Iroh comments. It is interesting; I am the Great Uniter again, from the hair to the gloves.

"Usually another figment of me, not this me, wears this," I mutter, examining the metal accents I haven't worn since my surrender.

"The spirit world is a unique place," he states, as he moves the boiling water off of the fire. "Start there," he encourages, as he steeps the tea.

"My uniform?" I question, to which he nods. "Well, it began in Ba Sing Se..." I begin, remembering the day vividly.

* * *

_We had recently arrived in Ba Sing Se. Food distributions, rehabilitations, and reconstructions were under way. The army, or should I say company, still wore the uniforms and armor of Zaofu. As conditions in the city improved, we gained popularity among the citizens. Nonetheless, there were insurgents, who believed anarchy was optimal. We chose to leave them alone: once everything was perfect, they would see the error in their ways and rejoin society._

_On the day the uniforms became an issue, Baatar and I were walking around the middle ring, trying to reconfigure the destroyed residential areas: his engineering skills were invaluable during that time. As we approached an abandoned building, a group of insurgents attacked us. I had successfully dealt with problems in Zaofu, but in my strategy to defeat the insurgents, I did not account for the new environment. I pushed Baatar in the building as a turned to face my opponents. As I began to fight, I realized my uniform offered no advantages. Yes, I had metal wires, but there were too many insurgents for the wires to be a viable weapon. The wide leg pants, while useful for defending Zaofu, only slowed me down. My armor was a solid piece, unable to be easily separated and used as projectiles. I had no metal and the earth was useless; they were proficient earthbenders and able to easily counter my attacks. I was trying my best to hold my ground, dodging punches, kicks, and rocks, but every so often I would not move fast enough and would be hit by one of their attacks. After a particularly brutal round, I shielded myself with a thick wall and considered bending pieces of my armor at them. "No, I would be exposed to the full brunt of their offensives," I thought, shaking my head. With no better options, I quickly sunk them into the earth; a temporary and weak move, but a move that would buy me enough time to get Baatar and retreat to safety. As I all but dragged Baatar behind me, I created walls to try and slow the bandits further. I did not stop running until we were back in the camp. I stood dazed for a while, until Baatar gently shook my shoulder. "You're bleeding," he said, gesturing to the lacerations on my arms, torso, and legs. I simply grimaced and told him that the uniforms need redesigned._

_"I need metal, accessible metal, that can be bent and used as a weapon without diminishing the protectiveness of the armor," I commanded, disgusted at my lack of prowess during the fight. _

_"You also need medical attention," he remarked, not missing a beat. He had changed since Zaofu, becoming more bold and confident: a far cry from the meek, cowardly boy he had been before. I normally did not take commands from anyone, but the mild surprise and exhaustion made me more compliant to his request. As I was receiving medical attention, he showed me the designs he had started. One particularly jumped out at me; the combination of traditional earth greens with metal was perfect._

_"But how will the armor be bendable?" I questioned with uncertainty. He smiled and flipped to the next page of the notebook, which diagrammed the armor as thin layers of metal that could be bent independently of the layers below. As he was explaining the odds and ends, I watched his expression. I was accustomed to evaluating people's facial expressions, but it was almost addicting to watch the glee and pride that eclipsed his features. This was his happy place, his favorite thing to do; he loved creating things others would marvel at._

_"But if we're changing your uniform, we have to change the other's uniforms," he pointed out, startling me from my analysis._

_"Of course. I am sure that you will come up with something great," I absentmindedly assured him, as the medic finished bandaging my wounds, "I will check on your progress by the end of the week." With those words, I curtly nodded and left Baatar to his task._

_ He had everything designed by the next day._

**A/N: Oh, the Baavira. Sorry for the delay, holidays are crazy. Hope to update again before school gets too crazy. Thanks to all of the reviewers; comments are always useful. Welcome to 2015!**

**Anonymous**


	6. The Earth Empire, Inc

"More changed than just your clothing," Iroh prompts, pouring the fresh tea into cups.

"Well, after the uniforms were perfected and manufactured, it became apparent that our campaign needed something more," I explain, remembering our struggle to reign in the criminals, "we needed a plan of attack, something that would stand against the adversity."

* * *

_"...Imagine it: Kuvira, the Great Uniter," Varrick suggests, while making a wide gesture with his hands, ending his five minute Varrick symposium on how we need a face for the campaign._

_"You think I should be the figurehead?" I question, barely masking my annoyance at such a belittling proposition._

_"No, no, that didn't come across right. Does anything ever come across right? Then again, there was that one time with the stuffed wolf-bats...Never-mind! I'm talking star-power! Think of that kid Bolin: he was completely irrelevant. Named him Nuktuk, beefed up the story a bit and, BOOM, instant stardom. **Kuvira**, who fought and won against the feared Zaheer, is the Great Uniter, on a noble crusade to bring peace and prosperity to her broken homeland. Just envision what the Earth EMPIRE could be with a little bit of PR. Jhu Li, Empire: write that down." Varrick pauses to take a breath, but when he speaks again, his tone is softer, more introspective. "We need a leader of more than just the army," he implores._

_"An Empire? We haven't even stabilized Ba Sing Se," I challenge, both awestruck and terrified by his absurd idea._

_"I know, I know. But once you do, imagine the possibilities... Possibilities made possible, of course, by a high speed train engineered by yours truly at Varrick Global Industries!" he pitches, agilely switching topics._

_"Then I suggest you get to work on the train," I respond dismissively, releasing the breath I had unknowingly been holding. _

_"It will be great...you will be great...the Empire will be great!" he yells, while exiting the tent. As he leaves, I consider what he said about the 'face of the campaign'._

_In Zaofu, the focus was always group oriented. Yes, the city was started by the Suyin Beifong, but we as citizens took collective responsibility for our glory. Su was always guiding us, but we were democratic. A centralized leader would go against all of Zaofu's ideals, all of the ideals I was trained to follow._

_I look at my reflection in the mirror. While the new uniform is nearly perfect, I look strange next to the sharp lines and right angles. I subconsciously reach for my braid. Though artistic and passable, it is not the look of a 'great uniter'. I quietly snort. If what Varrick says is true, I need to adjust my aesthetic a bit. I unravel the braid and get to work. I try pulling my hair into a high bun. No, I look like a Fire Lord when I do that. The ponytail is too casual. My hair cannot be down; it would be a liability in battle. The real problem is my bangs. While a low bun works, my bangs are still wavy and untamed, much like the earth kingdom. I sigh as I take my loose, flowing bangs and braid them back, creating a small part to the side. With no better way to secure it, I wrap the bun in a thin piece of metal from my armor. I look into the mirror. If I hold my chin just right and give a piercing stare, I can almost see myself ruling an Empire, as Varrick suggests. As I look in the mirror, movement catches my eye, and I quickly turn around to catch the intruder._

_"Baatar! What are you doing here?" I ask, mentally kicking myself for playing with my hair so flippantly. That is not the image a strong leader needs to propagate; I am a powerful leader, not a vain teenage girl playing dress up._

_"I came to..uh, well...I was going to..." he stammers, his eyes flitting around the room, reminiscent of his old Zaofu-esque self. He too realizes he walked in on something he should not have. I simply look at him with raised eyebrows. Instead of retreating, as I would expect him to, he takes a steadying breath and looks me dead in the eyes. "I wanted to know if you would be willing to join me for lunch," he proposes, with an even tone and a purposely impassive face. _

_"Lunch?...I suppose I should eat..." I trail off, while looking at the various reports and other paperwork scattered around my quarters. I had not planned on taking an official lunch; I was simply going to eat as necessary while trying to address the needs of the army._

_"We could eat in here," he suggests diligently, "I could even help with this mess. I used to help Mom all the time with Zaofu's affairs." I slightly cringe at the mention of Su, remembering our 'heartfelt' goodbye. _

_"That sounds...lovely," I reply honestly. A little companionship could not hurt my image too much. And as of late, there is no one I would rather spend my time with. _

**A/N- This turned out to be more flashback than Iroh, so I'm hoping to compensate next chapter. I like the idea of Varrick handling the commercial side of the campaign, as well as the engineering side. His character is fun to write. As for Kuvira, she still has a lot of pain to overcome. So much character to explore, so little time to write! **

**-Anonymous**


	7. Iroh-nic, isn't it?

Iroh sits silently in contemplation. Though I wish I would not, I find myself waiting anxiously for his thoughts on my story. Trying my best to keep my passive expression, I neutrally ask, "Well?"

Iroh only sighs as he retakes his seat at the board. He sips his tea thoughtfully. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks.

"This was the turning point, was it not?" he asks solemnly. "This is where the broken young woman who appeared here turned into the stony leader sitting before me..." He punctuates his last though with a sigh, causing me to I inwardly cringe.

"You know, I was once a person before I started campaigning," I protest sarcastically, more for my own sanity than his.

With those words, he furrows his brow. "We were all **once** people weren't we? We all had human ambitions and dreams. Every leader believes they will better the world, but when they finally awaken from their fantasy, they find that the world was better off without them," he soberly muses. Wistfully, he adds, " that those he loved were better off without him." He stands and moves to stand by the window. "I had to bury my son because of my ambition. The one person I loved most in the world unjustly died due to my actions." I sickeningly think of Baatar.

"But there is hope for the leaders," he sighs. "Throughout my life, I watched my family kill, discredit, and exile one another until all that was left was a dysfunctional mess." He shakes his head, "but the result was the same; the perpetrator would later become a victim. In the end, I was left with a nephew who was like a son to me, and a niece in a very precarious situation, much like your own. Zuko was already at peace with his transgressions and had asked forgiveness from those he hurt; but Azula never accepted what she had done. She lost her mind, due to the voices roaming in her head, trying to tell her to lead a life already gone. It is not particularly pleasant to watch a loved one's descent into madness. You have voices, due to your lost path; you are no longer what you were. I beg you to find balance in your life, to take lessons from your past, but not identity. A river that doesn't flow becomes vile and poisonous. Do not poison yourself. You may have been a good person before the empire, and a bad person during the empire, but that doesn't mean you are forced to bear both personalities. Free yourself of your burdens, and look within to find strength."

"I have never had to find myself! My entire life has revolved around people telling me what I can and cannot be, but never who I am on the inside. The one time I did try to find myself, I started a war!," I cry, feeling my facade, and sanity, slipping once again. "I don't know how to identify myself, I don't know how to find 'inner strength'. I don't know who I am!"

"People are not born with strength, physical or mental. They work for it; go through pain for it. It is not particularly pleasant to train muscles, but one is always better off for the training. Imagine weightlifting, but for your soul. The more pain you are able to come to terms with, the better the results. You must go through discomfort, push yourself to your limits, in order to become mentally strong. I know it is hard to bring yourself to do it, especially after the psychological injuries you have suffered, but you cannot walk through the rest of your life with a mental limp," he pleads.

"Injuries?"

"Yes, it is obvious you have suffered afflictions in your life. You protect your scars, much like a man with a fractured right leg favors his left. But protection will only bring you so far, as I am sure you have found out, and at some point, you must let the scars heal instead of burying them. I am sure it is no coincidence you favored a cool, emotionless demeanor before you were taken down," Iroh reasons, with great sincerity and empathy. I try to take a steadying breath, but it comes in short bursts, bringing the tears in my eyes to my awareness. I release a ragged sigh, reminding myself of all the times I trained for the dance troupe and guard; if I could deal with that pain, I can deal with this pain.

"I just wanted to be wanted, at any cost," I begin. "And my injuries may be rooted deeper than the campaign in Ba Sing Se. I was wounded by my parents deserting me, but the wound didn't fester until I was growing up in Zaofu..."

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I've been sidelined by the flu. I've though a lot about adding Iroh to the official character list, but in the end, I think I'm not going to because this is Kuvira's story (in case there was any curiosity about not including him). I'm not even sure of how much longer I'll write Iroh. The current plan is to begin exploring the messed up Su-Kuvira relationship, by way of flashbacks. But, if you haven't noticed, my plans have this funny habit of changing really quickly. Hopefully this one will stick.**

**Anonymous**


	8. Lin-timidated

**_A/N: Sorry, sorry, I'm should've updated waayyy sooner. Since it's been so long, here's a short synopsis to catch up. _**

**Kuvira was put into prison, where she was wracked by hallucinations until she drove herself into the spirit world. In the spirit world, she met Iroh, and they began trying to heal the wounds her childhood left. Kuvira is about to continue the story of her arrival in Zaofu. **

_**Caught up? Good. Ready, set, new chapter!**_

_"What is your name?" the woman asks_

_"Kuvira..." I whisper. Somehow my name is the only piece of my old life I have left._

_"Pardon?" she quips, raising her eyebrows and staring deep into my eyes. _

_"Kuvira," I manage, with a bit more force. My mouth feels strange when I say my own name; I have talked to few, and I've told my name to even fewer. _

_"Kuvira...not bad. Has an almost lyrical quality, doesn't it?" she panders. _

_My eyebrows wrinkle. "I've never really thought..." I mumble. I break away from her heavy gaze and focus my attention on the miniature metal city sitting between us. The air thickens as she waits for me to finish my thought, but she and I both know there is nothing left to finish._

_"Why do you deserve to live in my city?" She asks abruptly, following my eyes to the model of Zaofu._

_"Wh-what?"_

_"Why do you deserve to live in MY city? Zaofu?"_

_"I don't...I, I don't know"_

_"You must figure that out. I seldom offer refuge here. Everyone who was allowed to live in Zaofu had an important contribution to make to this city, whether it be resources, culture, architecture. This city thrives on the idea that you have a special attribute that will help shape the city."_

_"I have nothing," I whisper._

_"Speak up!"_

_"I HAVE NOTHING!" I yell. My angry cry reverberates off of the cold, unfeeling walls, and there is a horrible screeching sound as the miniature city bends to my will. _

_"A metalbender," Su murmurs, looking from the city to me. The room is still vibrating from my yells._

_But something isn't right. I watch as Su reevaluates the younger version of me, but everything is beginning to get fuzzy around the edges. The crescendoing echoes of my outcry overtake my ears as the scene becomes blindingly bright. I feel immense pain as I am ripped from my memories._

_And then there was nothing._

* * *

Light is piercing through my eyelids, jolting me into to consciousness. When I try to move my arms to protect my eyes, I am met with resistance and a resounding clang.

"Look who finally joined us," a voice calls out. In my stupor, I cannot make out the owner.

"Iroh?" I murmur, foolishly hoping that I am still in the spirit world.

"You had me there, kid. I thought that you had tried, sentenced, and executed yourself. I guess I still get the pleasure," the voice continues flatly, oblivious to my hazy wonderings. As I continue to get my bearings, I recognize that the voice belongs to Lin Beifong, Republic City Police Chief and sister of Su. I tilt my head to try and catch a glimpse of her, but am only met with the outside of a newspaper. "_Crazy Great Uniter Goes Crazier! What Will the Council Do?"_ the headline reads. Lin gazes contemptuously at me while I read it, waiting for the right moment to strike. "It's a good thing you're locked within such a strong prison. I'd hate to see you outside these walls, in the real world, where everyone wants to kill you." I grimace at her sentiment, or lack thereof. As I skim the rest of the article, I feel hot tears coming to my eyes. All the work I'd done was forgotten when I was locked in here.

"That little outburst three days ago made things a whole lot worse for you," Lin continues, "talking to walls? Not the most sane thing to do, but okay. Banging on walls, bending at walls, and screaming at an invisible person? Not okay, not in the least. You maybe had a chance at a light sentence and a semi-normal life before that outburst..." Lin keeps reprimanding, but I focus on only one word

Normal? Normal?! I see the Great Uniter standing over Lin's shoulder laughing. I snort; I cannot help myself. "Do you honestly believe I ever had a chance at **normal**. My life, since I was seven, has been anything but **normal**. I was just another tool for Su, a little piece of the great Zaofu. All my hard work and undying devotion got me a night shift and a goddamned dance with a woman who cares nothing for me or my mental health. It's not **normal**, nor will it ever be." The Great Uniter is nodding carefully at my outburst, considering every words. She then smirks at me, daring me to continue. "If voices in my head were the most abnormal thing about me, I would consider myself lucky. You have no idea what it's like! No one does! The only person that does isn't even real!" I screech. I try to bend my restraints off, but I feel nothing. As I become more desperate, I begin to squirm, my hair falling across my eyes. Through the unmanageable strands, I see the Great Uniter smirk and shake her head. She steps to the side as orderlies rush through the door. I narrow my eyes as I realize what she has forced me to do. I evade the oppressive hands of the orderlies as best I can. "I'm not crazy! I'm not insane! It's **her**!" I cry as they begin to overpower me.

"Hold her still," Lin orders. I feel a small pinprick. The Great Uniter is once again smirking as she fades away. She won, again.

"I just want to be free..." I sob, "I just want to be free." Lin's tired, sorrowful eyes are all I can see as I am dragged into a drug-induced abyss.


	9. Su-per Parenting

**(PSA: This chapter is not from the perspective of Kuvira.)**

* * *

"...I don't know what to do anymore Su. We cannot just keep sedating her every time she goes off of the rails. She needs help...**real **help," Lin Beifong states as she glances towards her unconscious ward. After Kuvira's last episode, Lin decided to give her sister a call. "She kept yelling something about you...I don't know all the details of your adoption-"

"It wasn't an adoption. I simply offered her a place to stay and a mentorship. She is not part of my family," Su interrupts.

"Whatever. After all you two had been through together, I thought you would've...never-mind," Lin mumbles, before continuing her train of thought,"My point is that the root of her instability seems to be you."

"The root of her instability is her sociopathic thinking. She nearly murdered her own fiancé, my son! You were there. You saw that she was out of control."

"Are you saying you were in control growing up? Because I have a nice scar to prove otherwise."

"Her transgressions are far worse than a simple facial mark" Su scoffs.

"Well, yes, it's all the more reason you need to be here. Look a how long it took our relationship to get back on normal ground. The only bad blood between us was a scar and our attitudes. And now, I guess there's also the matter of a human being. You can't possibly believe it's right to lock her in a room and ignore her."

"I was under the impression that we agreed upon this."

"We did. But after observing her in this prison, my mind is changing."

"Changing how? Did she suddenly morph into a person different person?"

"It almost seems like what happened to you. Here facade broke, and now she's-"

"Don't try and drag my past into this to get my sympathy, Lin. I reconciled with that a long time ago."

"Healing takes more than a one-time reconciliation, Su. It's a process. Did Mom's one-time bandage of sending you away not prove that?"

"I'll have you know that punishment benefitted me more than anything else she had ever done. Look at what I've created: a loving family, a beautiful city, and respect that I never would have gotten had I stayed in Republic City."

"But look at what you've destroyed! I have a young woman here on the brink of complete psychosis because of your 'mentorship'. You were afraid, Su, afraid to mother her. You took Mom's tough love a step too far, and by holding Kuvira at arm's length her entire life, you've nearly destroyed her."

"Don't lecture me, Lin. You have no idea what it's like to be a mother."

"Maybe that's true. But thanks to you, I have a pretty damn good idea of how not to be one." With that final phrase, Lin Beifong slams the telephone back into the receiver. Sighing heavily, she cradles her head in her hands. She forlornly looks up at Kuvira. Even when sedated, she appears to be at odds with something.

"I'm sorry kid. I tried to get Su, but she's a tough nut to crack," Lin states, for her own benefit, "Eventually she'll come around...maybe. If she could see you she may understand, but probably not, knowing Su." She stared at Kuvira quietly for a while, her mind racing through her limited childhood. She knew how it felt to compete for affection, to be perfect just so her mother would notice her. Hell, she even knew what it felt like to be precariously balanced over a mental breakdown. And even though the person in front of her was restrained and sedated, she thought just for a moment that the other woman had captured a certain kind of freedom; no repressed feelings, no impossible standards. Lin Beifong was required to keep everything underneath a facade of powerful indifference; she learned that after her sister left. Whining and moaning were signs of weakness, and God forbid she let all of her frustration out. Though her mother preached freedom in her parenting, there were always an unstated restrictions, punishable by disappointment and neglect rather than anger. After Tenzin married Pema, Lin had become a black hole, using sarcasm to brush away her feelings. And she had to continue brushing, always brushing away feelings rather than feeling them. Maybe it was for the better, but after watching someone finally crack, Lin simply wanted to be free.

* * *

**A/N: Did someone say parallel characters? Just me? Okay. It's a bit short, but two updates in two days!  
Remember to review, please, if you have any commentary. I like seeing the story through your eyes too.**

**-Anonymous**


	10. Cuckoo-vira

I awake feeling light, lighter than normal. For some reason, I don't feel the crushing threat of my hallucinations. After opening my eyes, I see that they have placed me back in my glass cell, where my hallucinations ran rampant. I feel frustration building, angered that they are so foolish, but it dissipates quickly. I suppose my mind is trying to keep me in check. Another breakdown will destroy any fragments of my reputation. The bruises on my wrist and dull ache in my head prove that the last breakdown was even worse than the first.

"We will keep everything under control," I whisper giddily. Nothing can touch me. The specters are gone, and flashbacks are suppressed, without me lifting a finger. Maybe I finally am healing, like Iroh said. I feel a pang when I think of Iroh; I miss him and his tea. But the feeling goes away, taking the pain with it. "Emotions only lead to weakness, Kuvira. We've known that since the beginning," I chirp. Everything is a bit more bright, from the colors to my thoughts. I am a wall, a glass wall. Nothing will phase me; I will not shatter. With every wall offering a slightly reflective surface, I decide to embrace the mirrors. I situate myself in a corner, my nose mere inches from touching my reflection's. I quietly hum as I untangle and braid my long, unkempt hair. I empty my mind, and my soul is at rest. I'm not sure how long I sit there, unbraiding and re-braiding my hair. The calmness is infectious, and I cannot bring myself to break from my ministrations. I hardly even take note of Chief Beifong's entrance. I simply keep humming and braiding, humming and braiding, humming and braiding... The Chief seems to give me a long stare, before clearing her throat and pronouncing that I have a visitor.

"Oh, how lovely," I reply, not bothering to ask who it is. No one will phase me; I am a glass wall. A perfect, pretty glass wall. As I move to stand, a soldier nimbly moves towards my and delivers a series of short punches to my torso.

"Chi-Blocking," Beifong relies, answering my unspoken question, "after the first incident, we're trying to be more careful." My limbs feel weightless and numb, much like my soul. I decide it isn't too bad of a feeling. When I try to step towards Beifong, my arms windmill around to keep my balance. I begin giggling uncontrollably as I fight to keep my balance. Beifong won't make eye contact with me, but it's okay. Everything is okay. I pretend I'm dancing with my over flexible limbs, and then I am able to follow Beifong out of my cell.

"This way," Beifong commands, warily watching my graceful movements.

"Alrighty," I bubble, as follow her through another door. Somewhere deep inside my brain registers that something is wrong, but the unease dissipates too. I am a bright, transparent glass wall; nothing will darken me. But then I see a person sitting inside the room whom I didn't want to see.

"Kuvira." Su Beifong acts as if my name is poison in her mouth.

"Su," I aspirate. I look nervously at Chief Beifong, but she refuses to meet my eyes. She is too busy angrily staring in the direction of her sister. Every emotion coursing through my veins, from anger to shame to relief, is numbed. My mind is clear, but not sharp. My heart quickens and my breathing becomes shallow; I'm in no state to be confronted by **her**.

"Sit," she says, pointing at the chair across the table from her. I uneasily move towards it, my movements still too fluid from the chi-blocking. "Now, Lin says that you aren't doing well because of me. Something about emotional instability," Su says flippantly, challenging me with her eyes. Internally I feel the immense anger begin kindling, but it is blocked. I instead stare at Su with bewildered eyes. Try as I might, I cannot create an aggressive countenance. Su examines me, and I can feel her eyes moving from my messy hair, to my shrunken frame, to my gaunt face, until she finally meets my empty eyes. "You look about how you deserve to look, considering everything you did," she scoffs. Instead of trying to formulate some sort of argument, I turn to look at Chief Beifong. She knows something is wrong with me too; her guilty expression is evidence enough. When I look back at Su, she is staring at her sister, so follow her eyes back to the the Chief.

"You weren't supposed to be here today, Su," the Chief seethes through gritted teeth.

"My trains was faster than I expected it to be. What could I have done about it?" Su whispers aggressively. They are trying to keep their words quiet enough to where I cannot hear them, but they fail.

"You could have waited a day!"

"The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I am free to go back to my family and put this behind me."

"But today wasn't a good day."

"Why not?"

"Because after the last episode, we had to give her medication to keep her lucid," Lin mutters loudly, still trying to avoid my ears. But it's too late. Lin tries to give me an apologetic look, to calm me down, but I feel a strange sensation rushing through my body. _Drugged, drugged, drugged _rings through my mind. I'm not healed; I'm just controlled. My ears are ringing as my emotions try to take control of my hijacked body. _Drugged, drugged, drugged. _I begin swaying back and forth to the rhythm of that word over and over. I'm not okay, I'm _drugged_. My eyes stare forlornly off into the distance. Chief Beifong seems like she's trying to say something to me, but I just laugh. Laugh, _drugged, _laugh, _drugged_, laugh. I see the orderlies surround me, likely preparing to sedate me, again.

"Tell everyone I said hello!" I giggle, while waving my hand at Su. I shouldn't be doing this in front of her, but I can't seem to stop laughing. I feel the needle prick, and fall back into the comforting darkness.

* * *

"That anti-hallucinogen was a terrible idea," Lin Beifong growls to the physician.

"If we're lucky, she won't remember the episode," the doctor claims, trying to placate the angry police chief.

"If you haven't already noticed, we aren't in the habit of being lucky around here. Anything that could go wrong has gone wrong."

"The patient is still alive..."

"But I don't know whether that's lucky or not."

* * *

**A/N: _Su_-per job there, Beifongs. If you haven't noticed, I went back and named all the chapters of this story. Some are normal-ish, most are bad puns, and absolutely none are good puns. If you can think of a better title for any Chapter, whether it be another bad pun or (the ever elusive) good pun, I'm all ears.  
****As always, reviews (or punitive chapter names) are greatly appreciated.**

**-Anonymous**


	11. Drug Back into Reality

My life isn't as carefree when its drug-free. Everything seems to be leaden today. My arms refuse to lift, my legs refuse to support me, and my mind refuses to think clearly. A skull-cracking headache is wreaking havoc, likely due to those damn drugs. With a groan, I remember the last time I felt like this.

* * *

_I groggily wake up to the sun streaming into my eyes. For a moment I think I am back in Zaofu, but then it hits me. "BAATAR, we have to get up!" I yell sitting straight up in bed. My heart skips when I see that his side of the bed is empty; throughout our entire relationship, I've either been up first or gotten up when I feel him get out of bed. With a steadying breath, I try to gather my panicked thoughts. I look around the room, only to find him sitting in a chair and watching me with a bemused expression on his face._

_"Oh I got up. And I tried to get you up too. But I value my life and chose not to disturb you anymore," he states, holding his hands up. I roll my eyes as my heart rate slows down to normal. Once the adrenaline is gone, I am hit full force by the pain._

_"Holy shh-" I murmur, not wanting to aggravate the awful headache that came out of nowhere. __I lay back down, shielding the light with my hand and trying not to vomit. Knowing I need to get up, I try to stand with the littlest movement possible; it's not working._

_"Did somebody party too hard?" Baatar teases, watching me stumble out of bed. My balance is pathetic, and the gentle swaying of the train only further exaggerates my flailing._

_"Oh, shut up. You know this is all your fault," I mutter back, only half joking._

_"How so?" he responds lightheartedly._

_"Last night...you just kept handing me drink...after drink...after drink...You should've stopped me," I groan. I begin trying to tame my hair in the mirror, warily watching his gleeful reflection._

_"You needed to celebrate. I know how hard you worked to convince that province to agree, and I know how stressed you've been over the Empire."_

_"Nonetheless, I have an image to uphold."_

_With those words, I see Baatar's grin falter a little bit. My eyebrows furrow as I turn to face him._

_"What?" I ask._

_"It's just...since this whole thing started, you've been more and more concerned with your image," he claims, looking me straight in the eyes. They're is a slightly uncomfortable silence as I turn back to face the mirror._

_"Varrick said-"_

_"You need to be the Great Uniter, who brought together the broken homeland with a benevolent iron grip," Baatar interrupts sarcastically, standing and moving behind me. We stand looking at each other through the glass. He gently brushes a stray hair out of my eyes and whispers, "I'm worried the Great Uniter is swallowing up my Kuvira." I stare into his eyes, knowing he is right, but not wanting to accept it. I close my eyes and whisper back,_

_"You know we cannot stop now, Baatar. Look at all we've done, all the people we've helped. Without us, the entire system would fall apart." My throat unwillingly constricts, and I add even more quietly, "We cannot simply abandon these people because of our selfishness." He pulls me into a hug, knowing my deepest insecurity._

_"Just promise that you won't abandon me," he says into my hair._

_"I-" My next thought is interrupted by three loud knocks on the metal door, my brain pounding in time to the unwanted intrusion. I sit on the bed and groan, cradling my painful head, while Baatar answers the door. I only catch bits of the conversation, until Baatar thanks the man and closes the door._

_"What do they want?" I growl._

_"New recruits, weapons systems, railways, and rations for approval. You also have a meeting about strategy for the next province, and another meeting about logistical matters for the province we've just acquired. Raiko and the council also want a telephone call at your earliest convenience," Baatar recites. "And that's just today," he merrily adds with a huge grin._

_"This is what happens when we unite a nation and save the world," I sigh, standing back up and starting to get dressed. I don't even notice Baatar slip out, until he walks back in, with his arms full of breakfast foods. He begins handing me a variety of muffins, meats, and fruits, telling me that they'll help with the hangover. I eat as quickly as possible, knowing that the more time I take on food, the less I will get done for the empire. I jump up as soon as I am done and begin to gather everything I need. As I slip out the door and slide on my gloves, Baatar grabs my bare wrist._

_"Hey, don't overwork it. The last thing you need is to be only halfway functional two days in a row," he implores. _

_"Baatar, I'm always fully functional, no matter what the circumstance. I won't stand for anything less," I defend. Before he can respond, I wrap one arm around him, trying to express sentiment around a stack of papers. "I'll see you tonight, if I'm lucky." I turn and hurry out of the room, always a step behind of where I want to be._

* * *

The emotions come hard and powerful after the flashback. My throat is constricting and my head feels as if it will explode. _Breathe, breathe, breathe._ I coach myself through the reaction, thinking about Iroh.

"That was after I gained one of the centrally located colonies. They were able to supply coal. Afterwards, we all celebrated, but celebrated too hard; we lost a day due to that celebration. I swore off partaking in any celebratory actions after that, from food to tea to parties," I whisper to myself. If narrating to Iroh kept the crazy at bay, maybe narrating to myself isn't too bad of an idea. "Baatar always thought I was too serious. Maybe he was right, but I suppose I'll never get to tell him." I wait for the soul crushing feeling that comes from killing your fiance, but it is slightly less horrid than normal. I still cannot breathe, but at least I haven't started punching walls. "Time heals, time heals, time heals," I murmur, pulling my knees to my chest. Being drugged may have been more pleasant, but I know that keeping everything sugarcoated only causes a stomach ache. I try to breathe deeply and steady my heart rate, as I keep thinking _time heals, time heals, time heals. _Thinking of one encounter with Baatar leads to an onslaught of other happy memories from our relationship, but I cannot bring myself to revel in the past with him gone. _One at a time, Kuvira. We can handle that. _

With nothing better to do, and my headache still limiting my movement, I methodically begin unbraiding and re-braiding my hair. _I won't hide from my past, nor will I let it destroy me._ Unbraid. _I won't let this cell, or the people controlling it, force me into insanity._ Rebraid. _I will be strong._ Unbraid. _I will be clear about my memories, transparent with my actions and motives._ Rebraid._ I won't let the Great Uniter run free._ Unbraid. I look into the eyes of my reflection. _I__ will be a glass cell._

* * *

**A/N: I'm not making threats. I promise. [Great way to open an A/N]**

** I'm simply stating that reviews do help with motivation to write. Not in a "I'm holding the story hostage for reviews" sort of way, but in a "oh look, other people care!" sort of way. I never intentionally stop writing until someone reviews, but sometimes I get stuck or dejected, and a review cheers me up enough to finish a chapter. So if you have reviewed, thank you for indirectly being a muse. I appreciated all the follows, and favorites, and reviews. (Don't fret, this isn;t my farewell. I won't stop writing because of this statement, I'm just thinking out loud a bit.) **

**Anonymous**


	12. Dream a Little Dream of (killing) Me

_"So, who's a better partner, me or the empire?" Baatar teases as he lazily twirls me around to the tinny sounds of the music. In our limited free time, we've taken up dancing._

_"Hmmm...That's a tough one. The empire definitely doesn't step on my toes as much as you do," I quip back. _

_"You have to admit that I'm getting better," he protests, feigning mock indignity. His words break his focus, causing him to stumble. _

_"I think the bruises on my toes speak for themselves." I gently guide us back into rhythm, taking the lead for a few brief moments. We swirl around for what seems like an infinite amount of time, until Baatar breaks away and steps back a little bit. I imagine how perfect the world would be if we could stay like this forever. But, as soon as I wish that, everything begins falling out of control._

_"You never answered my question," Baatar states, suddenly seeming angered, "It's like you don't even care about me!"_

_"What question? What do you mean?" I ask bewilderedly. Baatar had never been one for quick mood changes, especially with me._

_"Am I just another soldier? Someone you're going to send to a reeducation camp?" he spits._

_"Baatar, no. Where is this coming from? What's wrong with you?" The room is growing darker, as Baatar gets angrier._

_"I know you, Kuvira. I know what you've done. I know what you'll do to me." I feel overwhelmed by his sudden emotional turn. I reach my arm out towards him and try to reason with him._

_"Baatar, I love you. I don't know what has taken over you, but please, snap out..." I am interrupted by a bright, purple light shooting from my hand, straight at Baatar. His face shows intense fear, followed by betrayal. In an instant, he is gone. I look incredulously at my hand, then at the place where he had been standing. "What have I done?" I whisper. There are no ashes, no remains of my fiance. But I am suddenly not the only person in the room._

_"What have you done?" accuses a soldier, appearing out of nowhere._

_"You killed him, you monster!" another yells. I am suddenly surrounded by throngs of soldiers and civilians alike, who are screaming in protest. I notice that I am no longer in our quarters, but in the middle of an unwieldy crowd._

_"I di-didn't mean-," I uncharacteristically stammer._

_"He loved you, unconditionally!"_

_"He was always there for you!"_

_"You deserve to be lonely!"_

_"You deserve to be insane!"_

_The faceless crowd continues jeering, stating things I already know in my soul. Then, one face in particular stands out._

_"You're going to answer for everything you've done," Suyin Beifong says coolly. Everything else fades away as I focus on Su standing there, looking as stoic and uncaring as ever. _

_"Su, I'm-" I begin, but I feel the crushing weight of the situation. I killed her son. I destroyed her home. I ruined her life. The mob comes back into focus as they begin to seize me, bringing me down to my knees. The crowd shifts as the Republic City Council appears, bringing down a gavel. _

_"For the crimes committed against the Avatar, the citizenry of Republic City, and the citizenry of the world, we, the councilmen, sentence Kuvira, the Great Uniter, to a life of solitary imprisonment effective immediately," the say in monotonous unison. Guards immediately move to drag me away._

_"Su," I call out, childishly hoping she will care. "Su, I'm sorry for all the anguish I've caused you and your family"_

_"You're going to answer for everything you've done," she re-emphasizes. Her cold emotionless eyes meet mine, and I feel myself choking, gasping for air as my throat constricts. My chest is tightening, crushed by disapproval of every soul in the room. My vision swims, and then fades to black._

* * *

I sit up straight, gasping for breathe. The fear from my dream still has it's grips on me, so I begin my routine.

"The dance was the same, and so was the mob. Su was new, and so was the council," I whisper. My nightmares have been happening for weeks now, but they are usually the same. I either destroy Baatar, myself, the world, or all of the above. I walk over to the wall of my cell and peer through the glass. With no windows to the outside, and the lighting remaining constant, the only way to tell time is with meals and guard changes. I carefully look at the man standing guard. _Slumped posture, dark circles, unkempt hair. _By looking at his appearance, I can guess that he was the night guard and his shift is over halfway through. After watching his behavior for a few minutes, I see that he is more focussed on the door out of the room than my little suspended glass box. _Shift change is coming any minute. _Surely enough, the doors open, and a single figure walks in. I roll my eyes at the ease and vulnerability of their operation. _If I were to conquer it.._ I stop myself. _We are not conquering anything presently, nor will we be for quite a while, _I reprimand myself. My power hungry thoughts had temporarily distracted me from the guards, but when I look back down to find them, they are nowhere to be seen. A sharp banging on my cell door startles me. Before I can gather my thoughts, Chief Beifong waltzes in, a chi blocker following close behind.

"You have a visitor," she announces, as the chi-blocker begins methodically punching me, "let's hope you do better with him than you did with his mother."

My head snaps up, causing the chi blocker to jump back. I've only had one visitor, and only one of her sons would ever want to visit me. _It's not possible...he's dead. _Whether this is a dream or a sick reality, I know that my visitor can be only one person.

He has to be Baatar.

**A/N: This chapter: Ughhh. This chapter! I knew where I wanted to go, I just could not get there all week. Sorry for the delay. Next up is the OTP reunion. If you liked it/hated it/have ideas/want to say hello, there is a lovely box for that below.**

**-Anonymous**


	13. Crazy (In Love?)

My entire being is buzzing as I make my way down the hallway. Each step I take requires more and more effort. My mind is racing, trying to find any logical answer to the obvious question.

_Huan? No, no, the only time we ever spoke was after my dance recital. 'Your movements disguise a powerful force in your soul' he said._

_Wing/Wei? If I can't distinguish them from one another, they won't visit me._

_What if Baatar married Opal, and Lin is counting him as Su's son? _I pause at the thought, considering the likelihood that Bolin is visiting me.

_Spirits, no. That's a too much of a stretch, even when the only other option is..._I take a deep breath..._the only other option is that Baatar is-_standing in front of me_. _My heart leaps in my chest, begging to be free; the air flies out of my lungs, running from the storm that is soon to come. In an instant, I am overwhelmed by both elated relief and unbearable guilt, causing me to instinctively shrink back. As I try an reign in my emotions, I look at Baatar. When we first approached him, he seemed angry and defensive, but now that we are face to face, he has let his facade fall. He's a bit haggard. He is thinner and less muscular than he was the last time I saw him. The skin around his eyes is marred by the dark signs of emotional turmoil. His eyes themselves are dull and full of pain. After obsessing over his appearance, I tear my eyes away, instead choosing to look at the floor. _We did this, Kuvira. We are the reason he looks so...pathetic. _I wince as I think that word; the truth of the matter is unbearable. After making sure everything is fine, the guards retreat back to their posts, locking us in the same room I had met with Su in. We stand in the deafening silence for a few more moments, until Baatar finally speaks.

"I think we need to talk, Kuvira," he sighs. I venture another look into his eyes, only to find heartbreak and pity reflected back at me.

"That's it? After everything I've done to you, after all you've been through, you just want to talk?" I can only manage to whisper my response. "I've spent weeks imagining how much you would hate me, how much you would want to yell at me, get angry with me, if you were alive...and you just want to talk?"

Another few awkward moments pass as we both consider the implications of our past on this meeting.

"I came here...wanting to get angry. I wanted to yell, and scream, and make you feel the pain I felt when you shot that beam at me," Baatar speaks evenly, pausing for only a moment, "But I've been here for two weeks, watching you, trying to get the nerve to confront you about what you did. But I never can. Everyday, I watched you pace around, and talk to yourself, and stare blankly at the glass walls. I heard your cries at night, and I saw you trying to hold it together. And I realized that even in your punishment, you're one step ahead of me. You don't need me to torment you; you already torment yourself. My words are nothing compared to the episodes Lin told me about." At the mention of my psychosis, I look away. "I really want to be furious right now. I want to feel the adrenaline running through my veins, and I want to want to hurt you. But I can't. It's like there's something holding me back from those emotions, holding me back from destruction."

"Better make sure they didn't drug you," I joke under my breath, remembering my episode with Su. His eyebrows raise in surprise, and his mouth twists into a small smile.

"I knew you were under there. I told mom that you weren't a goner, that you still had presence of mind." He releases the breath he had been holding, his small smile growing larger. "I'm sure that soon enough you'll be back to normal, before the mecha incident."

"Oh no, Baatar..." I stop myself as I think of what to say. _He's convinced himself that I'm just going to magically be fixed to not be crazy. _"Baatar, you need to realize something, and it may come as a shock. I wasn't insane when I fired at you. I was making a sacrifice, yes, but I wasn't a raving lunatic. I knew the full weight of my actions when I armed that cannon. I knew that I would lose you." Baatar face contorts; where there had earlier been hope and optimism, there is now alarm and confusion.

"You were intentionally going to kill me?!" he exclaims.

"No-well, yes-but"

No, NO. All this time, I though you had been impaired when you tried to kill me, and now you tell that you did it in full knowledge, intentionally, knowing that you were going to give up my life." He is looking towards me incredulously, stepping closer as he rants.

"Baatar, listen to me-"

"NO. I'm done listening to you-"

"You didn't even let me finish explaining-" I protest.

"There's nothing to explain," he spits.

"Of course there is. When I shot at you, it was for the good of the empire."

Baatar snaps, and suddenly, I am keenly aware of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a psychotic episode. Bataar lifts me up an pins me to the wall by my throat.

"It was always the empire. Always the precious empire," he mutters, his voice dangerously low,"the only way I ever gained an ounce of your attention is if I made a great contribution to the _empire_." Hid hands are wrapped around my throat, disproving my earlier thought that he was weak. If anything, the lack of food and bending has made me significantly weaker. "I came here, hoping you had come to your senses, or hoping that you had gone so far away from them that I could lead you back. But, no, of course not. The Great Uniter is fine on her own, with or without her messed up ideals. I was only an engineer, only a pawn. I would never rule by your side because I was never meant to make it to the end." I want so badly to protest, to tell him how wrong he is, how much I wanted to rule the empire with him, but I can hardly breathe. My head is swimming as dark spots fill my vision. The guards move in, so he drops me into a gasping heap. He begins walking out, but turns on his heel and says one final line, with as much venom and hatred as he can manage.

"Glad to be of your service, Great Uniter." I feel my soul shatter, and every dam I constructed break as sobs wrack my body. The guards half escort, half drag me to my cell, where they leave me. I cry until I no longer feel anything, then bask in my comfortable numbness. I have no thoughts, no qualms, no feelings, as I fall asleep. And thankfully, no dreams.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Baatar, he convinced himself that Kuvira wasn't at fault for her actions. For some reason, writing character having an emotional release is truly invigorating. Fair warning: next chapter could take a little while, because I have a couple different directions I want to explore before I commit. Thank you to all who reviewed, and thank you for reviewing this chapter. (Too cheeky?)**

**-Anonymous**


	14. How it All P(l)anned Out

I awaken to see Baatar sitting silently on the retractable ledge to my cell. Much to my relief, he isn't staring daggers at me. Instead, it seems that he is taking in the careful design of my crystalline prison. I admittedly have done the same, on sleepless nights and restless days. The small glass box is suspended from platinum chains, equidistant from the walls, floor, and ceiling. The door to my cell is outfitted with an intricate platinum locking system, but the door can only be reached by the ledge that Baatar crrently occupies. The design of my prison makes one thing quite clear: even if I were to get out of the box, the most I could do is jump to my death below. The metal ledge requires two soldiers to bend it, and it is out of my reach on every day except today. However, I'm sure my former fiance isn't calculating my chances for escape, nor is he considering how much thought went into my impenetrable imprisonment. His eyes are locked on the suspension system and the building I'm suspended in. I roll my eyes, imagining how excited he would be if he had come across it during the Empire. Instead, he regards it with passive interest, letting his feelings for me cloud the sheer genius of the entire contraption.

Wordlessly, I move to the door and sit down in front of Baatar. For a few difficult moments, we look around, avoiding each other's eyes. Finally Baatar breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you," he deadpans, still refusing to meet my eyes.

"That makes two of us." Even though I try to infuse a lighthearted tone into my statement, it comes off cold and detached. He meets my eyes for a moment, trying to decipher the meaning behind my words. I let him see my true intentions: I have no more masks or personas to hide behind. We sit like this for a while, until he sighs and tries to continue.

"I'm really not entirely sure what came over me. I just felt so much fury so quickly..." Baatar looks apologetically at the bruises on my neck.

"Don't be sorry. You needed to do that. You needed to let everything out and stop lying to yourself."

"Well, yes, of course. But I hadn't planned on becoming physically violent."

"It's this place. It makes you do crazy things," I murmur, thinking about what I've done during my time here. Baatar pauses thoughtfully, looking around and probably considering the likelihood of a location causing psychosis. "But we do need to talk," I continue.

He looks back at me carefully. "I think you said your piece yesterday."

"Yes, but I've thought more about it. About you, me, and the Empire. And I realized that, even though we were engaged, you and I were in different relationships. You loved me, but I loved the Empire." Baatar's face darkens, but he doesn't look surprised.

"You never were one to mince words..." he sighs, as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I've just had a some time to think about what I want to say," I apologetically explain.

"Well, if you've figured it all out...Where did I fall in that grand scheme of yours?"

I pause for a moment, considering the best way to word it. "I didn't leave Zaofu for you," I begin carefully, "but I also can't imagine the Empire getting as far as it did without you by my side." I watch his body language, trying to see if my words were effective. If nothing else, they were as politically correct as possible.

"If I was so integral to the Empire, then how did you justify killing me?"

I want to pretend I don't know the answer, that I haven't thought about it relentlessly since my imprisonment.

"Do you remember how you once said that I'm a great leader because I learn from the mistakes of others?" I ask quietly. Baatar slowly nods, knowing he had likely said something to that effect. "Well, I also tried to learn from their successes. Zaheer..." I begin, but just saying the name feels like venom in my mouth, "Zaheer did everything wrong...philosophically. But, tactically, he was one of the most dangerous enemies I had encountered. And dangerous is good, when you face opposition." I stop and look up. I expect Baatar's face to be angry or confused. During the entire Empire, my only feelings for Zaheer had been rage and disgust, and Baatar had been well aware of those feelings. However, his face is calm and thoughtful, similar to when he was learning about new technologies from Varrick. "From our point of view, Zaheer's entire campaign was a mistake. But if you look at it from his point of view, the only mistake he made was losing to the Avatar. So I realized that if the only force that could stop his unbridled power was Korra, and if I defeated Korra, then nothing could stop me."

"But it didn't start like that. You never said your goal was to destroy the Avatar. Your goal was to unite the Earth Kingdom under an empire," he argues.

"It did start out like that, and I didn't have to start thinking about Zaheer's plan until I was opposed by Raiko and the others...when everyone didn't see the same logic I did, I saw that I had to turn to different tactics. Instead of being a worldwide hero, I was seen as a crazed tyrant. We were far past the point where I could change the public opinion and, while I maybe could have handled the coronation better, in retrospect, I knew that I had to protect what we were working toward. A half finished plan is worse that any finished plan, whether it be anarchy or communism-"

"You're rambling," he interupts. "Look, I know you had a precise tactical plan running at all times, but I only came here to know when your plan turned against me." My breath catches in my throat.

"I never _planned _on turning my back on someone who I loved and who loved me. But standing in the Mecha, after destroying the United Forces Army, I realized my only threat was the Avatar. And my only choice was letting you go. I never planned to hurt you...I planned to marry you...But I did plan on protecting the Earth citizens, and that was only possible if I killed the Avatar...and you." I rest my forehead on the cool glass in front of me, while my mind races through all the events of that day. Baatar removes his glasses and begins rubbing his face, contemplating what I've said.

"Kuvira- I just...I thought I was worth more than your plan...I wish your feelings for me could have trumped your logic," he sighs, while shaking his head and standing. I want to stand, but my limbs are numb and my brain is foggy.

"Are you leaving for good?" I manage.

"I don't know. I haven't _planned_ it out yet."

His words sting, but it's nothing that I don't deserve. Because in the end, I too wish my feelings for him had trumped my logic.

* * *

**A/N: Praise spirits, I made it through this chapter. Sorry for the delay; the end of the year gets crazy with AP's, and finals, and all the other _wonderful_ parts of high school. I believe this is the longest chapter to date, and maybe one of my favorites. I'm just looking forward to summer, where I can write more and hopefully update more regularly. **

**Thanks to all the reviewers, and favorite-ers, and followers. You all are truly lovely people, and I'm glad you enjoy this story. If you would like to join the group of lovely people, there is a box below.**

**-Anonymous**


	15. (But wait, there's more)

"Well, you've heard it twice now. You happy?" Lin Beifong scoffs to her nephew.

"You heard all of that?" Baatar asks quietly, while sinking down into a chair.

"I hear everything in this prison," she responds tiredly. One look at Lin Beifong showed how the weight of her job was getting to her; her eyes were ringed in black, her hair was thinning, and her demeanor was constantly snippy.

"I still don't like what she had to say..."

"You can't just keep going in there, asking the same question, and hoping for a different answer. That's not how the world works, kid."

"But what if I want a different answer? What if I'm not happy with the current one?"

"Then get happy with it," Lin replies, rather forcefully, "I've seen things here that would maybe even soften your mother's heart, and yet here you are, like a broken record. 'You killed me, why did you kill me, you shouldn't have killed me, I didn't want you to kill me'. Can you not see that she regrets it? Can you not see that she still cares about you?" Baatar sits silently, stunned at his aunt's outburst.

"I don't know. I-"

"No, you probably can't. You are, after all, a Beifong," she sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"We are not the most forgiving of people. I'm sure you have noticed. We tend to push away those who care about us, even f they've only made one mistake. Look at your mother and I. Look at your grandmother and I. Look at your mother and your grandmother."

"What does it matter? Aren't you all happy together, now?"

"After years and years of bitterness and anger. You're walking a well-beaten path of the Beifongs. I'm trying to expedite the process. But I will say this. If you can forget about her, have no further feelings, and nothing keeping you here, then leave. You're doing more harm than good by being here. But if there's anything, and I mean anything, that your going to regret for the next 30 years, I highly recommend that you fix that before trying to piece together the rest of your life. Don't let her drag you down the rest of your life." Lin looks forlornly into the distance. Baatar sits silently for a few moments, letting his Aunt's words take effect. After a while, he silently walks back to the atrium. He looks up at his former fiance, her back turned to him. Sighing, he walks back to the guards quarters, and begins to unpack his belongings.

* * *

**A/N: Really short, really fast update. It's because (fun fact) this scene was going to be attached to the last chapter, but it was cut last minute. Here it is, in its 450 word glory.**

**-Anonymous**


	16. Hallucinations, Party of 3

_Inner peace, Kuvira,_ _inner peace. Let my mind- _My meditation is interrupted by the sound of someone moving rapidly through the atrium. I pry my eyes open to see who the rushing intruder could be. Upon seeing who it is, I groan.

"Look who's still here!" A hallucination of my younger self has appeared on the glass, triggered by the interruption.

"I thought I got rid of you," I respond offhandedly, trying to resume my calming exercise. Ever since the Baatar episode, my insomnia has returned.

"Nope! And it looks like you didn't get rid of Baatar either!" She is much to chipper for my taste today, and I can feel myself becoming annoyed.

"Maybe he just forgot his toothbrush" I offer drily. Thinking of Baatar having to come back here for such a trivial item is amusing. The little Kuvira just huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Aren't you excited? Now that he's here you can make up and live happily ever after." I give her another look over; it's been a long time since I believed in happily ever after.

"Are you the me from before I was abandoned?" I ask suspiciously. The hallucination's eyebrows jump upwards and her eyes become as big as saucers.

"I get abandoned?!"

"Spirits alive! This is what I get for not sleeping the past few days," I grumble.

"That aside, don't you want to redeem yourself?"

"No...Well, yes, I want to. But I don't think it's possible. And besides, where would I live happily ever after? In this cell?"

"You two could fall madly in love, then he could help you escape, and you could run away together!"

"Escape? Did I hear someone proposing an escape plan?" A new voice asks. The Great Uniter has made an appearance next to the hallucination of pre-abandonment Kuvira. _I'm hallucinating two separate entities. I need sleep. _

_"_Be quiet. Just for a moment." I command, looking at my military self.

"No one silences-" I cut the Great Uniter off with a pointed glare.

"Why do you think it's so easy to make up with someone?" I ask the little Kuvira. She is thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs with a smile. It's then that I have the realization. _This kid has never been through tragedy. Nothing horrible has happened to her yet. _I pause for a moment, considering what plan of action I should take.

"Soon- I'm not sure how soon- Your parents are going to leave you for dead," I say, looking little Kuvira straight in the eyes. I figure it's best to get rid of this hallucination as soon as possible.

"That can't be right. They love me! They love each other!"

"Life's a lot easier if you accept tragedy instead of trying to wish it away," I offer, as she begins trying to block out the surroundings. Somewhere deep inside of me aches as I watch the young me process her grief, trying to hold on to her innocent view of the world. But I know the hallucination wasn't going anywhere good with little Miss Sunshine. Finally, after a few seconds of processing, her form shifts slightly, to the version with hardened, hollow eyes.

"You're right. Baatar won't forgive you because you're a monster." She says bluntly. I smirk slightly at the bluntness; I was never one to mince words as a child in Zaofu.

"We're a moster," I correct.

"I am no monster. I am the hero who will unite the Earth Kingdom under one flag, creating an era of peace and prosperity," the Great Uniter recites, with gusto and grandeur.

"You fail at your mission, almost killing Baatar in the process," I reveal, almost gleefully. Watching myselves relive my most painful moments in life is cathartic in a way. I've been awake for so long thinking about them that I'm immune to the emotional turmoil they bring.

"Maybe Su hates you because you're a failure," the small Kuvira hypothesizes, looking a the Great Uniter. My brows furrow; her words are hitting closer to my heart.

"Or maybe it's because you're incessantly blunt and lack social finesse," the Great Uniter fires back, standing tall over the smaller spectre.

"We learn social finesse," I offer quietly, but neither of them hear me. I was always too headstrong and stuborn for my own good.

"Baatar's never going to forgive us because of your actions," little Kuvira accuses.

"I'm sorry your little dream of marrying him was unrealistic. It's not my fault that you value your personal emotions more that the well being of an entire citizenry," the Great Uniter retorts, rolling her eyes.

"Stop it," I whisper. Both hallucinations are playing out the mental debate that has plagued me since Baatar visited and that continues to steal my sleep even now.

"If you really valued my relationship, it wouldn't have been a question whether or not to kill me. You're simply incapable of human affection," little Kuvira responds, as she shifts into the form of my ex-fiance.

"You and I both know that I wanted to help my people," the Great Uniter adds weakly.

"That's your only defense. That's always going to be your only defense. You're spineless...heartless, Kuvira. My biggest regret in life is not realizing that sooner," the Baatar hallucination chides. The Great Uniter lowers her head and fades away. The Baatar hallucination remains, boring holes into my skull. I've hallucinated this argument multiple times during my insomnia, and it always ends the same way. _Because it's the truth. _I look the Baatar hallucination deep in the eyes.

"You're right. That is my only defense. I can go on endlessly with the other reasons I've come up with while here, but that's really the only relevant one. Maybe I'm heartless for risking my fiance, but had it been turned around, it wouldn't have been. If I had risked your life defending the city-with Avatar Korra as the tyrant- I would have been a hero. I was just trying to think of the lives of the Earth Empire citizens," I admit.

"And the power," the Baatar hallucination retorts. I duck my head down in shame. _Of course the power wasn't a bad side consequence. Who wouldn't want to be able to rule the Empire they created? _

_"_You have my answer, so you're free to go wherever the rest of the hallucinations went," I respond cooly. For the first time in days, I'm beginning to feel tired.

"If that's truly what you want." With those words, he disappears, leaving me alone to rest. I stand up and turn away from the wall, towards my cot. However, as I bask in my exhaustion, a voice cuts through.

"I think we have more to discuss," the real Baatar declares. I look over my shoulder at the man sitting on the ledge; of course he didn't just forget his toothbrush. I give a forlorn look towards my cot. "Did you hear me? We need to talk." I look back at Baatar. He's holding a piece of paper, which I eye suspiciously. "It's a list, so that we can handle our grievances in the most civilized way possible."

"Are my grievances on that list?" I ask indignantly.

"Attempted murderers aren't allowed to have grievances," he responds calmly.

"Fair enough. Try not to take too long." He looks at me, then unfolds the piece of paper, revealing a long list. I rub my temples, imagining how wonderful sleep would feel.

"I'll take however long I need to take." His voice has taken on an authoritative tone, and he pulls out a pen and adds another grievance to the list.

I close my eyes and rest my head on the glass.

"Grievance one: you tried to kill me."

_Damnit._

* * *

**A/N: Long time, no see. Sorry about the wait, finals and AP's really were killing me for a moment there. Hopefully with the summer, I'll have more update time, thought I'm not sure with the residential camp I'll be at for June. For that reason, I tried to not leave a big cliffhanger. This story isn't complete, there's just the ever threatening likelihood my update ability will lessen. I still want to write, though. **

**In other news, this chapter was kind of lighthearted towards the beginning and the end. What did you think? If you have thoughts, have thoughts about having thoughts, or have no thoughts at all (and just want to say "hello" or "have a great day" or another pleasantry), there is a box, just for you, located at the bottom of the page, slightly to the right.  
**

**Have a great day!**

**-Anonymous**


	17. Bruised Souls, Bruised Ribs

"Baatar, stop." I interrupt, before he can even explain grievance one. "You will not get new answers. You will not change your hatred for me by constantly rehashing the same mistakes I have made," I plead, "If this is all your here for, it's probably best if you just leave and forget about me."

His eyes darken, and for a moment I am reminded of the enraged expression on his face when he tried to kill me. But he takes a deep breath and gathers himself. "Do you think I haven't tried?" he asks evenly. "Do you think I didn't try going back to Zaofu and throwing myself into my work, keeping even the smallest hint of you from my mind? I tried my hardest to repress all of my emotions, because they all led back to you. I tried to keep my head down and voice quiet, because it's you who showed me how to stand up straight and speak with conviction. I tried to respond when someone called "Junior", because I was no longer the most important Baatar in anyone's eyes." I had forgotten that I was not the only person forever changed by the empire. Whereas the empire artificially inflated my ego, it actually helped Baatar become the Baatar he wanted to be.

"Do you miss the empire, and the person you got to be during it?" I ask quietly.

"Do you?" he retorts defensively.

"No...no, I don't think miss her. Then again," I say, as I raise my haggard eyes to meet Baatar's, "It's hard to miss her when she's always here." Baatar's brow unfurrow's slightly as he contemplates the implications of my answer; his gaze is heavy as it rests on my beaten face. After a while, he stands and turns his back to leave. "You never answered it yourself," I call out, causing him to pause. "Do you miss who you were with the empire?"

"No..." he says, looking over his shoulder. "I miss who I was with you." With those words, he drops his head and walks away, leaving me alone again.

My breath catches in my throat and my eyes widen with horror. My head is spinning as the implications of his words swirl in my mind.

"No..." I whisper. "No, no, no, no, no." Tears are streaming out of my eyes as I wrap my arms around my knees.

"Why are you crying? He loves us! I knew us and Baatar were perfect from the beginning!" a small Kuvira cheers, "I knew we could live happily ever after!" I shudder at her unbridled enthusiasm. Looking closely, I realize this is the smaller me from Zaofu. She wears the green and the metal necklaces to further prove my point.

"What beginning? The bench?" I ask, thinking out loud.

"No Better!" she responds. I give her a blank stare. "You don't remember? I'll show you!" With that, the small girl fades away, and is slowly replaced by an image of the Zaofu training gardens.

_"Wing, Kuvira, it's your turn to spar," Su announces, looking seriously at both fighters, "remember, though, this is only sparring. We'll save the real hits for people who want to hurt us." Little Kuvira takes her fighting stance. _

I close my eyes as I bring the memory into my mind, instead of the glass wall.

* * *

_Su says to begin, and before she can finish the word, I am pounded by an onslaught of earth. Wing is bending chunk after chuck, without tact. After a couple of failed attempts to find an opening, I realize that if I dodge the attacks, he'll wear himself out, without any offense from me. I bring my hands up, crouch a bit, and begin stepping and spinning around Wing's attacks. It is slightly reminiscent of the dances the Zaofuians do to live music on special nights. Eventually, Wing stops the wave, and hunches over slightly. I realize he isn't looking at me, and I carefully look around for something to use that would be silent. With a smile, I quietly take my stance and begin bending my weapon of choice. I bend it methodically, resembling the waterbenders Su invites every so often. When Wing looks up to attack again, he is surrounded by the entirety of Su's meteorite collection. In an instant, my slow, quiet movements become fast and sharp, as I try to pin him before he can send more attacks. I wrap his hands and feet in the meteorite earth and bring them together, then allow the meteorite to solidify. I bow to my opponent as he squirms and tries to free himself._

_"Good job Kuvira," Su says, as she releases Wing from his meteorite cuffs, "And good job to you as well Wing. Those were some powerful rocks you were bending." I grit my teeth and take a deep breath, trying to keep my thoughts about his strategy to myself. Just as I'm about to say something, a guard runs into the training grounds and over to Su. I cannot hear what the guard says, but Su has a serious look on her face. _

_"Wing, Wei, Kuvira, I have a bit of business to attend to. You all can just spar until I come back," she says dismissively, as she moves to follow the guard. As soon as she leaves, Wing and Wei begin sauntering over to me. _

_"She did say all of us, Kuvira," Wei taunts as he takes his stance._

_"Good luck defeating the both of us" Wing smirks, as he also takes his stance. Before I can process what's happening, they both begin the Wing style of rock-chucking. I try to dodge and weave as I did before, but the rocks are coming in at two different angles. I block most of them, but take a few small hits. They slow down slightly, and I smirk as I think of how simple, yet effective my strategy is. Just as I am praising myself, a large rock comes flying in from Wei. I easily split it around me, my ego growing. However, I fail to notice the attack Wing sends in succession, and sizable piece of earth hits me. I'm thrown backwards by the force of the impact, and my body protests the brutal treatment. I hear them high-fiving and cheering as I try to collect myself and stand without being noticed. I fail though, and they stop celebrating long enough to make eye contact, then prepare their next attack. "ROCK WALL," they yell, as they send a piece of earth twice my size gliding towards me. I dive out of the way right before it hits me, causing the pain from the prior blows to radiate throughout my body._

_"Psst-over here." I hear someone whisper. From my place on the ground, I see a boy sitting in the bushes. I look over and see Wing and Wei laughing and high-fiving one another once again, paying little attention to me. As my ribs protest, I crawl over to the bush. A hiss of pain escapes my lips as I try to sit up in the bushes. _

_"Are you okay?" the boy asks. Now that I'm in the bushes, I see that it's the oldest of the Beifong children, Baatar. _

_"No, probably not," I wince, as I try to take a deep breath. _

_"They're likely fractured," Baatar says offhandedly, "I was watching the hits you took."_

_"I was thinking bruised," I answer, trying to keep my breaths shallow and trying to ignore the fact that he was possibly watching me the whole time._

_"Really?" He asks; my response has caused him to look up from his book, with an intensely curious gaze. It's then I notice that he is hardly through his book, confirming my suspicion that he was watching the entire showdown. _

_"Yeah...yeah. Believe me, I wish I were less familiar with bruised ribs," I reply nonchalantly, pulling my shirt up far enough to reveal the injury. I examine the bruised area and the area around it, pushing on it to feel for fractures. After a few moments, I notice Baatar hasn't spoken in a while. I look up to see that his eyes are not focused on my ribs, but on my face. _

_His gaze is slightly horrified as he asks, "You're used to this?" My breath catches, and I hesitate, remembering the children at the orphanage. 'Kids will be kids,' they used to say. _

_"I was clumsy, that's all," I respond quickly. Baatar doesn't need to know all the horrors of my life. Just as Baatar is about to respond, I feel the footsteps of my enemies. I look at Baatar, trying to tell him to be quiet with out sound, but he opens his mouth anyways. With no better options, I silently leap forward and tackle him, making sure to cover his mouth. I feel his exclamation of surprise against my hand, but I stare at him with as much seriousness as I can muster and carefully point my head to where the twin terrors are walking. His eyes widen and he nods in understanding. After a while, I hear the door slam and sense that they have left the training grounds. I roll off of Baatar with a groan, tears streaming down my face. As soon as he sits up and sees my crying, his concern for me grows. _

_"Come on, you need to get to the healers!" Baatar insists._

_"You have healers here?" I ask incredulously, as I sit, then stand up, "they were nonexistent in my town."_

_"Yeah," he says, then adds with a cheeky smile, "I wish I were less familiar with them." My eyes widen a bit, causing him to shake his head and exclaim, "No, not like that! Wing and Wei are cruel, but they usually don't pick on me that much...It's just that I'm clumsy, too." I smile through the tears at his sentiment, even if it is based on a lie._

_"Thanks Baatar," I remark. He opens his mouth to protest, but seems to think better of it. His arm wraps around me for support as we begin walking to the healers. _

_"You're welcome, Kuvira."_

* * *

**A/N: Yay! An update! I know it has been quite a while, but I would like to thank you if you're still following/caring about my story. This chapter was longer, to make up for lost time. Hopefully I'll be able to get a few more updates in before school is back in. **

**Tell me what you (yes, you) are thinking. Each of you is important. **

**Have a terrific day!**

**-Anonymous**


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